


A Thousand Ways

by convolutedConcussion



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Just A Sweet Little Bit of Fluffy Cotton Candy, That's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 13:09:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7362646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convolutedConcussion/pseuds/convolutedConcussion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a thousand ways to tell the people around you you love them.  They're not okay, but they're more okay when they're together, supporting one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Ways

The first time Dolls has a nightmare when she stays the night, Wynonna gets a knee in her spleen.  She doesn’t realize what it was and leans over to flick on the lamp, making him jump awake with fear and fury in his eyes.  His breath is quick, sharp, as if he’s smelling something, eyes darting around like he’s seeing—and it hits her.

“Hey,” she whispers, voice thick with sleep.  “Hey, you’re okay.”  He’s still not looking at her so she asks, “Can I touch you?”  It takes him a moment to finally turn to her, eyes still wide, still gasping heavily, but he nods, so she wraps her arm around his shoulders, other hand sliding down to grip his hand.  She presses her closed mouth to his shoulder.  “You wanna talk about it?”

“I, uh,” he stops, rough and low and on edge.  “No, not really.”

“Okay,” she eases, squeezing his hand.  She rubs his back until his breathing slows

“Sorry,” he murmurs.

“Don’t,” she warns gently as he lays back down.  After getting the light again, she tugs him until his head is on her chest and feels his arm go around her.  Absently, she drags her nails lightly over the back of his neck, over the curve of his skull.  Almost unthinkingly, she starts humming something like a lullaby, unfamiliar in her throat from years forgotten.  Eventually, he relaxes into her.

\--

Resting heavily against the bar, Dolls watches Wynonna make her unsteady way, arm-and-arm with an equally drunk Nicole, to the bathroom.  It had taken almost four minutes to convince her he wouldn’t come with her to “help her out with something.”  Even buzzed, he’s very aware of how bad a decision like coming out to Shorty’s was, but they were bored and had limited options.  He’s strumming on the bartop to the music when someone starts making some godawful racket and of _course_ it’s Champ Hardy.  Who even let him inside?

He’s part of a crowd all at one end of the bar and he can’t hear _exactly_ what’s being said but Waverly’s face has gone white.  Scowling, he pushes through until he’s nose-to-nose with the guy.

“Don’t you think it’s time you left?” he demands evenly.

Champ straightens and slurs, “How ‘bout you make me, huh?”

“Wrong answer,” Dolls grunts, grabbing the front of his shirt and starting to drag him towards the door.

“Yeah, you would defend your freak girlfriend’s dy—”

He doesn’t let him finish the thought before decking him in the jaw, and it’s _way_ more satisfying than it should be when he drops to the floor.  There’s a collective gasp and a smattering of laughter, and one loud, familiar _whoop_.  Wynonna and Nicole start cheering, and when he looks at Waverly she’s _trying_ to look disapproving.

\--

Behind him, Wynonna calls, “Smells good in here, Doc—who knew you could cook.”

When he turns, he finds she’s got her hip cocked against the doorway, head tilted to one side. 

“Well, I will have you know, Miss Earp, that I am a man with _many_ talents with which you are not acquainted,” he responds easily.  “This old man still has a few tricks up his sleeve, you see.”

She smiles, laughter in her eyes, as she comes closer to dip her finger into the pot for a taste.  “That is _strong_ ,” she coughs, blinking.

“My mama always said you could cook a boot and a whole camp would eat it if you had only a good hot sauce,” he teases.

“That bein’ said,” she mumbles, “Do I wanna ask what the protein in this chili is?”

“No, my dear, I don’t believe you do,” he answers.  Her hand lands heavily in the middle of his back, rests there for only a moment.

“Alright,” she laughs.  Then, frowning and skeptical, she probes, “Who taught you to use the stove?”

“Your sister _did_ give me a few pointers, but I am perfectly capable of figuring things out on my own,” he says.  “It’ll be done in half an hour.”

“Oh, Doc,” she sighs, mockingly clutching her breast.  “You’re just too good to us.”

\--

Someone’s up there screeching Carrie Underwood when Wynonna accosts her with the music list.  She flips it open while Nicole eyes her dubiously and mumbles, “I was thinking Abba.”

“Sing your heart out,” Nicole laughs, clapping her on the shoulder.

“Uh-uh, you’re coming up there with me.  Take a Chance on Me is a two-person song!” she crows.  When the cop doesn’t move, Wynonna tilts her chin down and _pouts_.  “Please,” she begs.  “Oh, c’mon, it’ll be _fun_ , weren’t you _just_ saying how fun it would be to get up there?”  She busts out the big guns when she whispers, “I bet Wave would think it’s _really_ cute.”

“You’re the worst friend, Wynonna Earp,” Nicole sighs.  “Take a Chance on Me, really?”

“Like you don’t think it fits,” she responds, huffy even as she grabs Nicole’s hand to drag her over to the vacated microphone.

Anxiously, she fiddles with the mic stand while Wynonna programs in the right song.  She darts to her side as the music starts and as the song progresses she alternates between singing to Nicole, to Dolls, and to Waverly, delighted grin plastered across her face as she milks the performance.  Her ease with making an absolute _ass_ of herself makes Nicole perform a little more, dramatically grabbing her heart and singing first to her, then to Waverly behind the bar.  Even from here, she can see the high spots of color on her girlfriend’s cheeks.

As the song ends, she throws her arm around Wynonna’s shoulders, belting along with the music and laughing when they miss the notes.

\--

For the past four days, Waverly has enforced the strict quarantine of Doc, Dolls, and Wynonna to the homestead, each more miserable than the last.  She’d chided them about not getting their flu shots, but did they listen?  Nope.  Doc had cited his near-immortality, Dolls the fact that he never got sick, and Wynonna?  Well, Wynonna hates needles.  And now look at them, flopped across every available surface, each of them waxy-skinned and hacking.  Harried, Waverly hands out bowls of soup and bottles of water, accepting murmured croaking thanks as she goes.  On her second round, she distributes Nyquil, tapping her foot until each of them takes their dose.

Doc takes some cajoling, grimacing at the taste.  Dolls doesn’t require any convincing because he’s an _adult_.  Wynonna moans about how she’s trying to _kill_ her with this stuff, voice hoarse and cracked.

“You’ll feel better if you just take it and get some rest,” Waverly reminds her sweetly.

When she finally does toss it back, she gags for a moment and snatches her water from her sister to chase the taste.  “Remember how Daddy,” she gasps wetly, “would hold our nose and shoot it into our mouth with a syringe?”

Sadly, she strokes her fingers through Wynonna’s hair as she rests back against her pillow.

“Hey,” she calls just when Waverly’s about to leave.  “Thanks for taking care of us.”

Something warm creeps into her chest but she just shakes her head and huffs, “Yeah, if not for me you guys wouldn’t have made it past day one.”  Then, thoughtfully, she amends, “Actually, Dolls might’ve.”

Looking sleepy, Wynonna smiles very gently.

**Author's Note:**

> I just??? Needed this bullshit in my life???
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! Check out my [Tumblr](http://johnisntevendead.tumblr.com) where I cry almost 24/7 about these nerds.


End file.
